


Banditspiel

by Monaro



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21767062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monaro/pseuds/Monaro
Summary: On a distant planet not unlike our own, people flock to shining cities from across the galaxy. Opportunity and adventure lies in a "New Economic Zone", that benefits the daring, the creative, the ruthless- and the wealthy. But, what they do not know is their role in the slickest conquest in the universe.In this story, we follow a group of bandits from the underclass. These are the misfits, the down-and-outs, the scum of this shining society who rail against its injustices- and make a pretty penny from the spoils of war!Welcome to The Farworld!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Dynamiter scurried over the cliff, diving behind it.

Pete patted the dust off his vest; the Dynamiter had stirred it up. “All seddup?”

The Dynamiter nodded, shaking. “Yeah… Yeah, we’re good.”

The night was bright with a full moon, fast clouds rushing over the valley- a dry place where the trees mostly grew along the lazy river- and along that river, a railway wound its way up the valley to North Camp.

The Dynamiter chuckled. “Well? How much longer?” He tried to sound casual, but couldn’t.

The Old Man took out his pocketwatch. “Fifteen minutes, give’r take.”

Dynamiter produced his lighter, and lit a cigarette. “Are you sure?”

“Put that fuckin’ thing out.” Pete snatched it from him and stomped on it. “We been out here for a year, kid- if we know anything, it’s when the trains run. The old feller over there worked for ‘em once.”

“And I know better’n to hold them to a schedule,” the Old Man countered, “These lines’re new. Anything could hold ‘em up.. For instance, a landslide..”

The Dynamiter offered them a smile. “Or a blown bridge?”

Pete chuckled. “Yeah, yeah..”

Dynamiter chuckled louder, trying to hard. “Yeah, like-”

Pete’s mood changed in an instant. “Pssh, shut up, shut up.”

“What?”

“Shut it.”

For a moment, they listened- and they could hear the rackety exhaust of their quarry.

“You hear that?”

Pete took the telescope they’d set up, and looked up the line- He saw a shape in the shadow of the hills, where before the tracks had glimmered like lines of silver- gray smoke was rising out there.

“No headlight,” he muttered.

The Dynamiter stirred. “How… how long we got?”

“Maybe five minutes.” Pete pointed to the satchel the Dynamiter carried around his neck. “Get ready.”

The detonator was a small plastic cylinder no bigger than a bottle of pills. Dynamiter took it out and flicked up the antennae to the full three feet. He aimed it at the target- a little bridge over a stream that emptied into the bigger river- and hunkered down.

Pete dropped to the rock, telescope still in hand. The shape of the train was snaking down the valley, faster than he expected.

“Aight, boys, here she comes-”

And a cloud went over the moon.

Dynamiter: “What?!”

Pete: “ _ Sshhhett!” _

Old Man: “Oh, boy.”

Pete tossed himself over the rock, grabbing his Winchester. “Now, boys, it’s gotta be now!”

Charging down the hill, Dynamiter pressed the button. A flash went up in the distance- the boom came half a second later. The train must’ve seen it, the scream of the locking brakes a reply. The three crashed through a deer path, trying not to trip- the others would meet them by the tracks- Dynamiter hadn’t asked their names- to assault the train. And they’d plunder the thing for guns and ammo.

There was a heavy thud and a splash, and Pete whooped. Moments later, the gunfire started, from the other side of the train.

But when they left the treeline, the moon came out again, and they were greeted with a sight that made their stomachs churn.

What stood before them was not a train, but a rolling fortress. Sloping armor bristling with turrets, polished surface gleaming and an armored locomotive in the middle, of a total of seven rolling citadels- only the front car had been derailed, tipped up and away from the rest, which had backed a few yards down the line, uncoupled and very much on the rails.

The train hit them with a spotlight; a mounted laser fired a burst over their heads- one nearly hit Pete, who cursed and dove in the ditch- Dynamiter tried to follow, but the next burst got him in the back and burned his guts to goop.

When his eyes adjusted, the old man saw a soldier hopping off the train and he grabbed for his pistol. He fired twice. the soldier fell and didn’t move again. Another soldier appeared in the near vestibule, and the old man shot his legs out, watching him tumble and chucking his rifle into the brush.

“Stay down,” he growled, and the kid nodded, his cap falling off. He was a kid- about sixteen, scrawny. What kind of soldiers were they sending out here?

He jumped as a field gun went off, shaking the ground. He guessed their sniper had stirred them up. There was more gunfire the other side of the train. he ducked and peeked under a coach, to see soldiers lying prone on the ballast, firing into the woods. Another searchlight hunted, raking left and right. Gunfire flashed from the treeline, one shot missing and bouncing harmlessly off a steel wheel.

With a crash of glass, the light above The Old Man went out.

“ _ PSST! _ ”

In the dim light, he couldn’t see the culprit. He turned to the soldier, but the soldier hadn’t moved.

“PSST! Over here!”

He looked to the ditch, from which Pete’s voice hissed out. “It’s no good here, let’s split.”

He nodded, and hobbled from the cover of the train. There was a lull in the action- the gunfire had stopped; the only sounds were the crunch of feet on gravel, the swishing of grass- the calls of the soldiers coming the woods and the occasional snort of the engine.Now was as good a time as any.

He started for the brush, but a spotlight hit them; Pete ducked, but the Old Man put his hands up, revolver included.

“Hold it!” A young voice barked at him- seventeen maybe, definitely a cheap soldier from the accent.. “Drop your gun, turn ‘round slow!”

He turned to find his captors, three cars down, with their guns trained on him. A third towered over them- a huge woman with wavy, curling pink hair that obscured much of her face. She wore the uniform of their officer’s- a grey stetson, a big, doublebreasted overcoat with a yellow diamond clasped around the collar and big, black boots. She held no weapon, and stood with her hands on her hips. 

The old man’s gun slipped from his hand and she approached. The woods were still silent, aside from the crickets and the calls of the soldiers. This was bad: No goods train, but an ambush- and now her.

He saw her as she came closer; she was smiling. Of course she was. He felt his stomach churn. She was the last person he wanted to see.

“Mr. Nader,” she purred, “Nice to see you again.”

“No, not you..”

Pete leapt from the ditch and fired- He got the soldier to the right of her in the leg and he fell; he pivoted, and shot the giant woman in the back.

But the shot bounced.

She turned slowly, deliberately, as the gunfighter just stood there in awe. There was a definite entry point on the gray uniform, but it had sparked and ricocheted away. He shook himself and fired again- it hit her shoulder.

Nothing but a spark.

She flashed a sharp grin, and he unloaded on her, fanning the lever like The Rifleman, but it do no good. Appearing on her forearm, a saucer of bright light- a shield, emblazoned with a yellow diamond. 

At its center was an iron spike.

She drew her sword, he dropped his empty rifle and fumbled for his revolver.

Nader grappled with her- “Hey… hey, hold it!”- and she threw him away. He slid on the gravel, hitting his head on the rail and reeled. From what he could see, she charged Pete, sword outstretched, and rammed him against a dry pine. She held him there- stolid, silent- as if to embrace him, then backed away.

Pete’s hat was off, he’d lost it somewhere in the bush. He stood pigeon-toed on trembling legs. He had a gash in his chest, bloody through his flannel shirt.

With a gasp, he crumpled and fell.

Her shield fizzled- then disappeared, and she sheathed the sword. As she approached, a spotlight swung round on her, and he saw clearly the holes Pete had made. One of the rounds had bounced on her belt-buckle. The tin yellow diamond was curled inward a little, the brass coating chipped. She offered him a hand, and he took it- he had no choice.

“We’ll be going now.”

He nodded. He wasn’t in the position to say no.

\---

The Kid had figured he’d find him here- a little lean-to up the line. Somebody had a mining claim here once.. Judging by the wrecked interior, seemed they hadn’t struck anything.

“Jim… Jim!” 

He called into the darkness, eyes unseeing in the shadows. Then, a spark- the embers of a cigarette. Moving slowly, deliberately out of the shadow was the bandit-king himself, clad in a plaid shirt and blue jeans, with that dusty-white hat that had turned to beige.

The Kid stood in the doorway. “They got us good. That weren’t no freight, it was an armored train! Got everybody, even th’sniper! It was a goddamn turkey shoot!”

Jim shifted the cigarette in his mouth. “...Even Pete?”

“ _ Especially _ Pete! That… that giant Gem-lady was there! She took out this big friggin’ shield, and she-..” He could see Jim’s features working now, silently- Barely noticeable, calculating the losses, the grief. He figured he’d leave that bit alone. “I was in a tree near the tracks.. Minute the shootin’ started, I dropped in the ditch and was snipin’ ‘em… From where I was, looked like she took the Old Man with’er.”

Jim shifted his cig again, blowing smoke away from The Kid.

The Kid straightened. “They’re headin’ back to North Camp soon.. After that, I… I dunno. Prisons?”

“Prisons,” Jim agreed. After a long pause: “This is bad.”

“What’re we gonna do?”

A cloud went over the moon, but no sound came from Jim- he just stood there. You’d think he’d just froze, as no light stirred in his eyes- but, deep down, he was thinking. His mind slowed way down when this happened, unnecessary features shut off. When the moon reappeared, he had extended a long index finger.

“We gotta see my Person about this.”

“You… You got a person for this?”

“Yep.. Where’re the horses.”

The kid nodded. “Tied up by the creek.”

Jim stretched, standing on the tips of his toes. He opened his mouth wide in a thunderous yawn, and Kid would have shushed him, if he weren’t Jim. “Wellp,” he declared, “Let’s get it on the hump.” And the Kid parted as he made his leave, following close behind.


	2. Chapter 2

\---

Chapter 2

The rain drove hard into their backs. The Kid led Jim into a rough-sawn frontier town, the latter clad in a feculent poncho to hide his features. The muddy roads led to the rough stone wall encircling the little downtown, through the farmers’ fields, past the little huts and ramshackle houses they lived in. A sign read at at the gates- flung open and inviting:

**CITY OF WYVERN HILL**

**FACET 1- WEST SIDE**

**ELEV. 2012 FT.**

**POP. 750**

Two soldiers stood guard, clad in shakos and waterproof shawls. Upon seeing The Kid leading the hobbling, stooped shape, they let them pass without protest.

They went for the Inn- all the frontier towns had them- and found a nicer one. Big, three stories, a real cozy mountain-lodge type deal.. Grateful for a respite from the rain, they entered.

The place was just busy enough- there was a hum of talk, and a jukebox played- gemtech; garish and crystalline-green, with big horns protruding from all sides- croaking out some choked, wavering rendition of big band music.

Jim nudged The Kid. “What are you doin’?”

He turned back to searching the room. “Lookin’ at the- ...Nothin’.”

“Lead me to th’far booth.”

The Kid saw a gem sitting there- she glanced at them, then back to her screen- a disc about a foot wide that hovered in front of her- which she swiped almost desperately at the sight of them. As they approached, she gritted her teeth. Jim sat down as comfortable as could be, so.. Naturally, the Kid followed.

The gem was a Zircon. She wore a ribbon of cloth around her neck, the ends threaded under her gemstone like an old brooch necktie. She was a light yellow color, with a darker yellow patch in the shape of a diamond emblazoned under a chevron in her boxy jacket. Unlike most of her kind, instead of a monocle, she had wireframe glasses. A set of small, diamond-shaped chains kept the round frames on her head. But, like any Zircon, she seemed out of place in a place like this..

When they were safely sat down, sheltered from most eyes in the room, she took a glance at the clientele, then back to them. “..What is this?”

The Kid cocked his head. “What’s what?”

The Zircon unfolded her arms at Jim. “ _ This! _ Why are you  _ here?” _

“We told you we were comin’,” Jim countered, serene as ever, “Telegraphed two days ago.”

“You said you were sending a  _ party,”  _ Zircon hissed, _ “ this _ .. This is  _ not _ a party, this is the most wanted man in Facet 2!” Her gesture turned to The Kid, shoulders slumping. “... and, whoever  _ you _ are. Do you have a deathwish? Why couldn’t you send somebody else?”

“Well,” the kid led, “Well, uh… it’s… kind of a funny story, y’see, we’re all that’s left, and-”

Jim finished. “Pete’s dead, an’ the Old Man’s captured.” 

The Zircon’s eyes widened. “They got  _ Nader? _ ”

Jim nodded slowly, and she seemed to bristle. She picked up her screen and fanned her face, continuing in a low murmur.

“That is… bad news for you-  _ worse _ news for your him! Nader’s a turncoat, a traitor. They won’t just kill him, they’ll publicly  _ humiliate _ him! They’ll make an example out of him..! And.. and after that, you can kiss your precious contacts in The Machine  _ goodbye!  _ No more tips on troop movements, no more telegraph agents telling you where the guns and gold are going, and no more  _ stupid, sentimental _ Zircons in the Colonial Bureau practically  _ handing _ you precious secrets! _ ” _

Jim extended a hand toward the Zircon. “Listen, Snitch, that ain’t gonna happen. We’re gonna get ‘em back.”

Her pupils contracted, then thumped her hand on the table. She bumped her screen in the air and it disappeared in a flicker of light. “ _ Ha! _ Forget about it! It’s impossible.”

He looked right into her. “It ain’t impossible. We just need th’details.”

“Like, where is he?” The kid added.

Snitch looked at them, obviously unmoved by their optimism. “You know very well.” But, they refused to budge, so with a sigh, she brought out her screen once more. “What’s his full name?”

The kid shrugged. “Dunno.”

“George.”

She looked to Jim with a start, then punched it in. “George… Nader. Right.” Snitch scrolled until she found a dark, grey square. “Aha! George Emory Nader. Incarcerated at Facet 8 Detention.. See? What did I tell you?”

“Look s’more.”

She began to read the file, humming- coming across something that piqued her interest. “ _ Hmmmmmm! _ ”

“What?”

“Well, it says here, they’ll be trying him in Three Rivers next Wednesday…”

The kid laughed. “They’re  _ TRYING _ him?”

Snitch nodded. “Strictly for show- public embarrassment, remember?”

“Then that’s it!” The Kid banged the table, and Snitch lost her place, shushing him a little too loud. Softly, he continued. “Then.. that’s it. We just.. Hit the train to Three Rivers and make off with him...!”

Snitch eyed him closely, stopping her fruitless efforts to unfuck her search after the interruption. “ _ Really? _ You and whose army? You just finished telling me you’re all that’s left, and you’re going to hit a train?”

“We could hire some extra guns!” The kid offered a smile- things were looking pretty grim to him. 

“I mean, you could,” Snitch reasoned, “But you and your little gang go through gunmen like tobacco; I hardly recognize you guys anymore!”

“We only need ‘em for this job!”

The Zircon shook her head, groaning and gripping it with desperate hands. “Kid, that’s the same reasoning that got your friends wasted! And besides.. I don’t know if you’ve seen them yet, but they’re using  _ armored trains _ for that kind of stuff now?” She cackled a little, trying to subdue it. “This is no understatement, but Pete was one of the lucky ones… they’ll make sure you die slowly.. And, if they can’t catch you, they’ll run you all off Farworld! You won’t be safe anywhere in the galaxy!... You’re all  _ fucked! _ ”

She received no response, and, suddenly, she knew she’d gone too far.

Jim was quiet- more so than usual. He’d already lost so many- all his old friends and allies, indispensable guns and those he was close to. He didn’t want The Old Man to be the next to go. 

Snitch had calmed down, so she tried to make up. “Jim, I’m sorry, I-”

“We’ll get ‘im out. No matter what.”

The Zircon regarded him silently.

He looked up at her from under his hat- Jim had milky blue eyes that looked almost sightless- that’s why those wanted posters called him “Dim Jim”- but anyone who knew him knew he wasn’t dumb; behind those eyes, you could see the lights on. “You know anyone good?”

“Me?” She let out a little cackle, clasping her hands over her mouth when she saw a couple people watching. She continued in a softer tone. “I’m a.. I’m a civil engineer, and an expert in Homeworld law, not  _ Lee Christmas! _ How am I supposed to know where good mercs are?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She looked around, glancing again at the clientele, and sighed. “Alright- I’m going to go to the train station- the women’s restroom. Meet me there in five minutes- Alright?”

The kid nodded. “I-”

“ _ SssSSHSSS _ SHhh _ udd _ up, just nod..”

Both obliged.

“Good.. now.. “ She picked up her voice. She screwed on a fake smile and stood up. “Well,  _ Aunt Miriam _ , I’ll see you later!.. We’ll see what we can do about that  _ paternity suit _ , okay? Good bye!” And with a stroll not unlike a corny vaudeville performer, she strutted off into the rain.

The Kid snickered. “She’s a hoot, eh, Jim?”

  
  


\--

They met at the station- a little log building in the fields. Really, it was more of a shack, but it had a covered waiting platform! After all, Wyvern Hill was a classy town.

The toilets, however, were not classy. They were low, ramshackle little buildings whose toilet seats would give you slivers, if not diseases. Nevertheless, Jim entered without qualms. Hesitating for a moment- making sure there were no screams of terror from any female occupants- The Kid followed.

Snitch stood on the sawdust floor, nervously flicking the screen at her wrist. “Filthy,” she muttered, “Filthy, starless, _ fucking _ earthlings, with their filthy waste and-” The Kid coughed, and she looked up with a start. “ **OH!** Oh, it’s  _ you _ ….”

The Kid huffed. “Okay, okay, so we’re in the ladies’ john. What’ve you got for us?’

She paced past them, blocking the door with a barrel serving as a trashcan. “..I know someone who can help you.”

“And that is…?”

She sighed; Snitch knew she was going to regret this

. “When I was working for the Courts in New Freeport, I knew a Ruby who could unlock any door.. She’d been a guard to a… Hessonite or something; she had security clearance for any door I needed. When I forgot the pin for my office, she got me in.”

Jim piped up. “Ain’t Rubies dumb?”

“Yes, but you’re not hiring her for  _ brains _ . Every Ruby is dumb; she’s no more conspicuous than any other gem of her type…”

The Kid butted in. “.... Why didn’t you just ask one of your coworkers for help?” She ignored him, looking away, so he pressed her again.. “How’s she with a gun?”

Snitch paused. “I’m… not sure, but Rubies are used as bailiffs.. You  _ could  _ sneak her in, replace the guard, and break her out after the trial!”

“Assumin’ she don’t crack under th’pressure,” added Jim.

Snitch nodded slowly. “That is a possibility…” Then she tensed. “Just.. don’t mention I sent her.”

Jim nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” He outstretched his hand to shake. “Pleasure doin’ business with ‘ya, Snitch.”

She took it, shaking feebly. “The pleasure’s all-”

“Wait a sec!” The Kid pushed them apart. “How’s she in a fight, huh? We need to know!”

Zircon straightened her glasses, furrowing her brow. “Rubies are a  _ soldier caste _ . She’ll do well enough.”

“Yeah? Can she shoot?”

She huffed. “Ah- I don’t know, okay?... _ Probably? _ Gems don’t normally  _ carry _ firearms. Most of us can weather a gunshot or two.”

“How about her _? _ ”

“...Not really. Listen-” From behind her, she pulled an ornate carpet bag. “I know you’re both broke- it’s not like you can walk into town and get jobs.” She snickered- Snitch considered them bums, though she wouldn’t admit it. “So, I got you a set of passes for the train; they say you’re railroad inspectors.”

The Kid took the bag, rifling through it. “...What’s with the new clothes?”

She grinned. “Inspectors don’t wear rags.”

Jim smiled right back. “I gotta hand it to ya, Snitch, yer pretty generous ‘fer a Homeworlder.”

“That’s because none of it’s mine.”

A pause. Then, The Kid: “...Come again?”

She hissed laughter again. “That Ruby didn’t just unlock my office. She got me my supervisor’s credit-card. The same supervisor that got me  _ transferred here _ , to this stupid…  _ tank tow _ n in the  _ middle of nowhere _ , who gave my promotion to..  _ 92A _ , that  _ hack! _ ” She kicked at the sawdust, covering her mouth to muffle a delighted  _ screech _ .

The Kid took a step back. “Aaalright, then, we’ll just.. Change into these, and git!

“Yeah,” she muttered, still wheezing, “You.. you do that…”

“Are you foaming at the mouth..?”


End file.
